This doesn’t concern me much / this disease / this pseudo crutch.

This doesn’t concern me much / this disease / this pseudo crutch.

I don’t like the way / you’ve spoken to me / lately / with your tainted brush.

Let me be free, I say / with a handle / on what I’ve got coming to me.

Finally / I can come back down / and return to this reality.

Gripping on / to open air / with a frown upon my desperate face.

I can see now / what it was / that brought me to you in the first place.

The comforting feel / of a flesh-toned hand / grasping onto mine.

The relaxation / found within / a life that’s left me blind.

And I can’t see you anymore.


I’m not sure exactly where that came from. I had nothing specific in mind, but I assume it’s something all can relate to at some point in their lives.

I must really get to bed, but I felt the need to write something. I guess that’s good. I’m finding the time to write more words…. now I just have to find the time to sit down and put some music to these things.

I’ve felt so antsy since being single. I just hate the feeling. It’s free-ing, but for me and all my issues, it just makes me very paranoid. Like… who am I going to meet next? How do I do that? Why can’t they meet me? What do I say? Am I wasting my time? Shouldn’t I do something? I feel so lonely. When’s it gonna end?

I’ll tell you when this blog ends. Now.



Create until nothing is left to create.

Leave a Reply